


The Camera Shop

by litanyaisle



Category: Ghost Quartet - Malloy, Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: AU based on a musical, basically this is the camera shop scene & song written out almost verbatim, this may be too niche i apologize
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 04:20:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29396142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/litanyaisle/pseuds/litanyaisle
Summary: Haley looks for a new camera after hers is smashed. The owner of the camera shop is a strange woman with an uncomfortable air around her, but also seems eerily familiar to Haley. She tells Haley the history of her family, leading Haley to try to escape in fear once her visit uncovers the horrors of the shopkeep's ancestors.
Kudos: 3





	The Camera Shop

**Author's Note:**

> Like I said, this is almost verbatim of the Camera Shop (Scene) and The Camera Shop. All ideas and magnificence goes to Dave Malloy. I just stuck these two innocent sisters in this hellhole. Please go support Dave Malloy and Ghost Quartet by listening to it if it interests you, it's truly a wonderful work of art.

The door to the old antique shop creaked as she carefully pushed it open, feeling it nearly come off the hinge. Gently closing it behind her with her full weight, Haley made her way down the narrow hallway in front of her, each wood plank groaning beneath her shoes with each step. Cobwebs dangled above her, lining where the walls met the ceilings. She had been met with another door at the end of the hallway— still old— but had no indic ation of falling off the door frame.

The interior of the camera shop had little similarities to the aged mess of the hallway, but still looked as if it were many years older than her. Warm light filled the camera shop, born from antique lamps and lit candles that were sat upon dusty shelves. Cameras of all kinds lined the walls, sat neatly amongst old cow skulls and instruments. An old leather couch sat in the middle of the camera shop, sat with an old wood coffee table and cow skin pillows. Behind the wooden counter sat a familiar looking woman with a pale complexion, wearing all white, staring off into nothing in a blank stare. 

Haley cleared her throat. “Oh, uh, excuse me?”

The woman blinked a couple times, but kept her somber expression. She spoke slowly, tucking her blue hair behind her ear as she turned to her customer. “Can I help you?”

“I— uh, I hope so. I lost my camera.”

Her eyebrows twitched for just a moment. “Did someone steal it?”

“No, no! It got… smashed,” Haley answered quickly.

“Perhaps I can repair it? I am quite skilled at—”

“It got smashed and lost!” Haley cried back, still talking frantically. She shut her mouth quickly, trying to regain her composure. “The pieces are lost.”

The woman had blinked a few more times, swallowing the dryness in her throat. “I’m sorry,” she replied meekly. Her eyes had trailed around the camera shop a few times before lifting herself from her stool. From behind her counter she had brought up a flask, steadily walking over to her guest and carefully setting it into Haley’s open hands. “Here, please have some whiskey..”

Haley grasped the flask, unscrewing the top with shaky hands. She had thanked the woman quietly, anxiety filling her as her eyes caught onto the expectant eyes of the store’s hand. With a few gulps of her whiskey, the woman had returned back to her counter, rummaging through the shelves.

“It was a real camera, correct? It wasn’t a phone?”

“No! Not a phone, I do  _ not _ like phones.”

The woman straightened herself out, turning to Haley with a smile and wide eyes. “Me neither.” The smile had sent a chill up Haley’s spine, causing the hair on her arms to stand and give her a weakness in the back of her knees. The woman continued, “Well, I can assure you that we will get you all set up with a new camera before you leave but please, sit and relax a little. You need to take care of yourself.”

Haley sat down as she was told, keeping an iron grip on the flash in her hands. With an attempt to stop the shaking in her hands, she took another swig of the alcohol to calm her nerves. The air felt thick where she sat, but each time the woman had walked over in her direction the air would go thin and cold. The sound of the odd woman rummaging through broken parts in cardboard boxes had become akin to the sound of silverware on ceramic glass plates, causing Haley to shut her eyes in an attempt to ground herself.

“Are you travelling?” The woman asked, popping her head up.

“Yes!” Haley answered, hoping the enthusiasm in her voice would make up for her rigid movements. “From Pelican Town.”

“That’s nice. It’s nice to have… roots, a place to call home.”

An uncomfortable silence filled the two once again, only to be uprooted by the continued rummaging of the camera shop’s owner. Haley’s nails tapped at the flask, hoping to drown out the ringing in her ears. The whispering groans of the walls echoed in her skull as the nagging feeling that she had seen the woman before ate away at her skin. Taking any chance at filling the void of human voice, Haley began to speak. “Well, what about you? Have you been here long?”

The woman stood up straight once again, giving another bone chilling smile. “Yes, actually. This store has been in my family for four generations.”

Haley muttered a quick ‘wow’, having no doubt in her mind it was true. If someone had told Haley that the front door had not been replaced once, she would have fully believed it. The small holes and dips in the ceilings proved that as well, along with the few raised planks of wood in the floor. The woman had appeared next to Haley in nearly a flash, making her jump and look up at her. Her arm had raised to point, her finger long and pale, at an ivory white instrument hung upon the wall.

“See this fiddle on the wall? It belonged to my great grandmother. Her name was Haley.”

Haley’s eyes lit up for just a moment. “Oh, that’s my name!”

“It’s a beautiful name,” the woman smiled, looking down at Haley.

Her gaze was transfixed on the instrument, setting the whiskey down by her feet and pushing herself off the couch gently. She walked up to the woman’s side, tilting her head as she spoke. “The color is so light! Please, what’s it made of?”

“An old breastbone!” The woman had replied almost too enthusiastically, causing Haley to recoil and mutter to herself under her breath.

Haley kept her eyes off the fiddle. “Creepy.”

“It was the breastbone of her sister; her name was Emily. I’ll tell you the story,” Haley sat herself back down on the couch, not speaking another word. The woman continued, “Haley and Emily had lived by the sea. They would gather salt and watch the waves in the moonlight; but Haley loved a man who lived in the trees. Haley went to his treehouse and looked at the stars through his telescope— she had longed to hold his hands, so she wrote him a poem! She signed it and sealed it herself in an envelope, using a lily as a stamp. Alas, the man stole her work! He was the editor of some prestigious astronomy journal. He wrote down all she said about the stars, then published it in his name. Haley had grown to hate him, and then… Emily had caught his eyes.”

Haley shook her head in confusion, resting her back against the leather couch for the first time. “I’m a little confused, and more than a little frightened.”

“Oh, it’s okay, my dear, please don’t fret! This is a circular story.”

The woman continued. “So, Haley ran into the forest and asked a great bear to maul the astronomer! And to turn the girl’s sister into a black crow, and then to put the corpse of the astronomer and the crow in a cave, so the crow would start to starve… and she would have no choice but to peck out the eyes of her lover and eat them!”

Standing up abruptly, Haley had headed to the exit with haste and cried, “I don’t believe any of this!” 

The woman mirrored her action, pointing a finger at her, crying out back at her, “Don’t you remember? The bear named his price!” 

Haley stopped in her tracks, hearing a harmony of the woman’s voice and the creaking of the walls: “One _pot of honey_ , one _piece of stardust_ , one _secret baptism_ , and  _ a photo of a ghost _ .”

The echoes had repeated in Haley's mind three times, each time louder than the last. What the lady had meant by asking if she remembered his words had no explanation in Haley's mind. Her only goal was to leave the camera shop in one piece, lest her fear of being the next breastbone-d fiddle upon the wall were to come true. She paid no mind to the loud groans of the floor with her quick movement, grabbing the door handle with haste, nearly slamming it open. Just before she had fully shut the door, the woman had continued speaking of her ancestor that she had shared a name with. 

“Haley stole the honey from a soldier she pretended to love, she stole stardust from an ancient that she had pretended to care for, and for the baptism,” she paused, “she stole a baby, from its mother— a frightened teenager in a mansion, and took the child into the sea, and the child was blessed.”


End file.
